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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673404">out with a bang</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunonolibero/pseuds/karasunonolibero'>karasunonolibero</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Murder Mystery, Suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:46:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunonolibero/pseuds/karasunonolibero</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the first floor of a townhouse just outside of Boston, Kuroo Tetsurou flips through his mail. Junk mail, catalogs for stores he’s never shopped at, circulars for grocery stores, it’s all boring. He makes a face and tosses the latest L.L.Bean catalog aside.</p><p>Oh, now this is interesting.</p><p>On the bottom of the pile is an unmarked white envelope, bulging with whatever’s inside. Kuroo grabs a knife off the counter and slices it open, careful not to disturb the contents.</p><p>A fat wad of hundred-dollar bills falls out, along with a newspaper clipping from this morning. </p><p>
  <i>
    <b>BESTSELLING MYSTERY NOVELIST FOUND DEAD IN HOME</b>
  </i>
</p><p>“Interesting,” Kuroo says aloud, looking from the cash to the headline and back to the cash. “Very interesting.”</p><p>~</p><p>or, a <i>Knives Out</i> AU in which Kuroo is a private investigator, Terushima never comes to family gatherings, Oikawa won't stop hitting on Lieutenant Iwaizumi, Kenjirou spends his grandfather's entire birthday party in the bathroom, Hinata is just trying his best, and everyone can lie. Well, almost everyone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Semi Eita/Sugawara Koushi, Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>soooo i recently saw knives out and loved it so much i saw it three times. and, obviously, decided i needed an AU. you don't need to have seen the movie to read this (though i highly highly recommend it). since this is a murder mystery, there Is death and some non-graphic violence. there's also a lot of talk of suicide. given the source material, the characters and their actions may seem ooc at times, but hey—at the end of the day, this is all for fun anyway.</p><p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <b>
    <em>November 10, 2019<br/>
</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>8:13 A.M.</em>
  </b>
</p><p class="p1">Bokuto Koutarou’s morning begins the same way it always does.</p><p class="p1">He drives down the long, winding driveway, listening to the gravel crunch under his tires as he pulls up in front of the manor house.</p><p class="p1">Tucked away in the wilderness of southeastern Massachusetts, the home of bestselling mystery novelist Ukai Ikkei cuts an imposing silhouette with its three stories, steeply sloping roofs, and large, un-shuttered windows. Bokuto doesn’t know enough about architecture to say what style it is, but he’s pretty sure it would make a good place to film a horror movie.</p><p class="p1">Inside, knickknacks cover every flat surface—bronze statues of Indian deities, carved animal figurines, picture frames. Bokuto knows every single thing in this place, because it’s his job to dust around it all.</p><p class="p1">He heads into the kitchen to start on Ukai’s breakfast, privately thinking he’s got a pretty good gig here. Ukai may be old—he turned eighty-five the day before—but he’s still sharp and sound of mind, and he doesn’t need anyone to wait on him hand and foot. He has a part-time nurse named Hinata that Bokuto’s met several times, and there’s Bokuto, of course, but Ukai does pretty well for himself. The man cranks out three mystery novels a year and all of them fly off the shelves, so obviously, he’s still got it.</p><p class="p1">The only real struggle is getting the man to stop sleeping in his study. Despite both Bokuto and Hinata scolding him for it, Ukai just loves to overwork himself, typing away until he passes out on his keyboard with a cold cup of decaf next to him.</p><p class="p1">Bokuto places the plate of toast and coffee mug on a tray and starts carrying it up to Ukai’s room. The old wooden stairs creak under his feet and echo through the house as he ascends to the third floor. The first few times, Bokuto thought it was creepy; now it’s just comforting. Just another part of his morning, along with the toast and coffee and everything else.</p><p class="p1">“Ukai-san! Good morning,” he calls on his way down the hall, noting Ukai’s open bedroom door. He pokes his head in to see the bed empty and still made, with Ukai’s robe and sleeping cap laid out on the foot. Huh. “Ukai-san, we’ve talked about this,” he sighs to himself, adjusting his grip on the tray as he heads back into the hallway.</p><p class="p1">The wood paneling lining the walls is painted a mint green, periodically touched up so it looks pristine. It’s been a while since the last touch-up, though, so there’s a spot in the dead center of the wall close to the floor where some of the paint’s chipped away. Bokuto kicks the spot with his heel and steps back as the paneling swings open, revealing the hidden staircase to the study.</p><p class="p1">Man, Ukai lives in a cool house.</p><p class="p1">“Ukai-san! I have your breakfast!” Bokuto says again as he climbs the last set of stairs. Balancing the tray on one hip, he turns the doorknob.</p><p class="p1">A second later, the tray crashes to the ground with a horrible clatter.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1">
  <b>
    <em>November 11, 2019<br/>
</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>3:39 P.M.</em>
  </b>
</p><p class="p1">In the first floor of a townhouse just outside of Boston, Kuroo Tetsurou flips through his mail. Junk mail, catalogs for stores he’s never shopped at, circulars for grocery stores, it’s all boring. He makes a face and tosses the latest L.L.Bean catalog aside.</p><p class="p1">Oh, now this is interesting.</p><p class="p1">On the bottom of the pile is an unmarked white envelope, bulging with whatever’s inside. Kuroo grabs a knife off the counter and slices it open, careful not to disturb the contents.</p><p class="p1">A fat wad of hundred-dollar bills falls out, along with a newspaper clipping from this morning.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p4">
  <b>
    <em>BESTSELLING MYSTERY NOVELIST FOUND DEAD IN HOME</em>
  </b>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">“Interesting,” Kuroo says aloud, looking from the cash to the headline and back to the cash. “Very interesting.”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1">
  <b>
    <em>November 18, 2019<br/>
</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>7:07 A.M.</em>
  </b>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No!” he screams, back pressed against an invisible wall. It’s dark all around him, but somehow he can see the giant syringe in front of him, the needle pointed at his face. “Don’t, I didn’t mean to, please—!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">Hinata Shouyou wakes up in a cold sweat, heart pounding in his chest as he bolts upright. He blinks, taking in the early morning light slanting in through his blinds. Just a dream…right. Another nightmare. He never used to have them, but since he got the news that Ukai committed suicide a week ago, they haven’t stopped.</p><p class="p1">He drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen. His little sister Natsu is already awake, puttering around the kitchen while the radio plays. “Morning, Shou-chan!”</p><p class="p1">“Morning, Natcchan!” Hinata ruffles her hair and reaches for the cereal as his phone rings. The name ‘Shigeru’ flashes on the screen. “Wait, hold on.” He answers and puts the phone on speaker so he can keep making breakfast.</p><p class="p1">“Hinata? It’s Shigeru.”</p><p class="p1">“I know. I have your number saved.”</p><p class="p1">There’s muffled conversation on the other end. Then Shigeru says, “We need you to come to the house. The police want to question everyone.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>8:36 A.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">“I’ll be honest. I don’t get it,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “What the fuck is he doing here?”</p><p class="p1">Sawamura shrugs. “He said he was hired.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but he didn’t say who hired him.”</p><p class="p1">They both look across the driveway at Kuroo Tetsurou, who’s in a trench coat and a deerstalker. “Is he for real?” Iwaizumi continues. “I mean, come on. Nobody around here wears a hat like that. It’s like he thinks he’s a Sherlock impersonator.”</p><p class="p1">“But he’s amazing,” Sawamura says. “There was an article in <em>The New Yorker</em> about him. Remember that murder-suicide case in Colorado? It was cold for sixteen years and he solved that thing in three days.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but this is an open-and-shut suicide case.”</p><p class="p1">“Probably.” Sawamura shrugs. “The case is only open for 48 hours. Can’t hurt to let him look around for a couple of days, right?”</p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi hums, still skeptical, and sighs as Kuroo takes a magnifying glass from his pocket and peers at a windowsill. <em>Not a Sherlock impersonator, my ass.</em></p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>8:48 A.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">The moment Hinata steps out of his car, he’s accosted by Oikawa and Shigeru.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, Hinata, I’m so glad you’re here,” Oikawa says, smothering him with a hug before ruffling his hair. “How are you holding up, sweetie?”</p><p class="p1">“Um, okay, I guess,” Hinata says, balling his fists in his pockets and staring up at the house. The last time he was here…well, was the night of the party. The night of Ukai’s death. The house that used to be so welcoming feels cold now, like it’s trying to keep him out. But he swallows the discomfort down and follows Shigeru into the house.</p><p class="p1">“Dad and I thought you should have been at the funeral,” Shigeru says to him with a roll of his eyes, “but we were outvoted. You know our stupid family.”</p><p class="p1">Hinata manages a laugh before he spots Keishin, Ukai’s oldest son, walking toward him. “Oh, good, you’re here,” Keishin says. “We can get started.”</p><p class="p1">“What do the police want with us?”</p><p class="p1">“Great question, kid,” says a voice behind him. Hinata whirls around and comes face-to-chest with a broad-shouldered police officer with neat, dark hair and a friendly smile. He doesn’t look too intimidating, but the one behind him has what looks like a permanent scowl. Hinata focuses on the one right in front of him. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. We just wanted to investigate a little further, that’s all.”</p><p class="p1">The second officer steps forward. “I’m Lieutenant Iwaizumi and this is my colleague, Inspector Sawamura. We’ll be conducting the investigation. Now, we only want to ask each of you a few questions to better understand what exactly happened on the night of Ukai Ikkei’s death.”</p><p class="p1">“My father killed himself,” Keishin grumbles. “It was suicide. What more is there to say about that? You think one of us did it?”</p><p class="p1">“That’s not it,” Sawamura says. “Again, we only want to understand what happened. We’re afraid the initial investigation was…not as thorough as it should have been.”</p><p class="p1">“So you’re incompetent, is what I’m hearing,” Shigeru snarks.</p><p class="p1">“We may have made some errors,” Iwaizumi admits. “Now, is everyone here?”</p><p class="p1">Hinata turns around as the family mutters amongst themselves. There’s Keishin, with his husband Ittetsu; Oikawa, of course, and his son Shigeru; and Semi Eita and his husband, Sugawara Koushi, who insisted on keeping his own family name, as well as their son Kenjirou.</p><p class="p1">“Yuuji isn’t coming,” Keishin says. “He texted me this morning.”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t come to the funeral, and now this.”</p><p class="p1">“Is he the only one missing?” Iwaizumi asks.</p><p class="p1">Keishin nods. “Everyone else is here.”</p><p class="p1">“Perfect. We would like to see each of you individually, starting with Keishin.” Sawamura and Iwaizumi usher Keishin into the living room. Hinata watches the heavy wooden doors shut behind them, and takes a shaky breath.</p><p class="p1">He hasn’t even said anything, but already, he feels like he wants to throw up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm playing with short choppy chapters cos i feel like it fits the genre. i'd love to know what you think so far! let me know in the comments or on <a href="http://karasunonolibero.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>another reminder that this is an au and this is where things definitely get a a little ooc. also, i've updated the tags to reflect something that's referenced in this chapter, so please check those!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:00 A.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">The living room has always been Keishin’s favorite room of the house. When he was little, he liked to play on the ornate Oriental rugs, and try to count the books on the shelves lining the walls. He always got bored by the sixth or seventh shelf, though.</p><p class="p1">The centerpiece of the room, though, is his father’s extensive—frankly obsessive—collection of knives. Ukai took great care of them, arranging them in a frame so they formed a circle, all the blades pointing toward the center. His father used to wink and tell him there was a knife for every murder victim in his books. Keishin didn’t believe it then, but he absolutely does now.</p><p class="p1">“Please, have a seat.” Sawamura pulls up a chair for him right in front of the knife display. Keishin sits.</p><p class="p1">“For the record, we’ll be recording this interview,” Iwaizumi informs him, removing his iPhone from his pocket and showing the active voice recording. “Now, for the record, please state your name and your relation to Ukai Ikkei.”</p><p class="p1">Keishin clears his throat. “My name is Ukai Keishin, and I am Ukai Ikkei’s oldest son.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re the only one of Ukai’s sons to share his family name,” Sawamura notes. “Can you explain that?”</p><p class="p1">“Sure. My father was married three times and had one son with each wife. I got his name because—well, that’s the usual thing to do, isn’t it? When he had his second son with his second wife, they decided to give their son his wife’s family name. Something about how he wanted them to learn how to make their own way in the world without the help of his name.”</p><p class="p1">“And he didn’t decide that with you?”</p><p class="p1">“I guess he didn’t think about it then.” Keishin shrugs. “Anyway. Ushijima Wakatoshi was his second son, but he passed away fifteen years ago, as you know. And Semi Eita was his third.”</p><p class="p1">“I see.” Sawamura taps his foot twice. “And for the record, you work for a real estate company in Boston, correct?</p><p class="p1">“No, I own it. It’s my company,” Keishin corrects him.</p><p class="p1">“…Right. Keishin, we’d like you to tell us everything you remember from the party held the night of your father’s death. Starting with when you arrived. You told us last week that you arrived early with the caterers to help set up, correct?”</p><p class="p1">“Right.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, we talked to the caterers, and they said they didn’t see you helping at all,” Iwaizumi says. “One of them did tell us that while they were setting up, they heard an argument from his first-floor office. Two male voices. They said they heard your father say, ‘You tell him or I will.’ Would you care to explain?”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 9, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>12:29 P.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">“Where the hell did you get these?”</p><p class="p1">Keishin slams the lid of Ukai’s laptop shut, but he can’t unsee the pictures. Him and Mori, his college hookup, making out in his car. How the fuck did his <em>dad</em> get these?</p><p class="p1">Ukai just sits back in his chair, arms crossed. “That’s neither here nor there. How long has this been going on.”</p><p class="p1">“Stay out of my marriage.”</p><p class="p1">Ukai sighs. “I raised you better than this, Keishin,” he scolds, like Keishin’s a little kid who just got caught playing with the knives in the living room. “Well? Are you going to tell Ittetsu?”</p><p class="p1">“Like hell I am!”</p><p class="p1">“You want to lie to your husband?”</p><p class="p1">“I said, stay out of my marriage!”</p><p class="p1">Ukai opens a drawer and withdraws a sealed envelope labeled ‘Ittetsu.’ “You’re my son, Keishin,” he says, “but you’re too old for me to defend your mistakes. Ittetsu is a good man. He doesn’t deserve your lies.”</p><p class="p1">“Dad!” He lunges across the desk, reaching for the envelope, but Ukai holds it out of his grasp and slams a fist on the desk.</p><p class="p1">“You tell him or I will!”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:01 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">“Oh, right, right.” Keishin sighs. “We’ve been talking about maybe putting Great-Uncle Nekomata in a nursing home. It was his idea, but Dad wanted me to tell him. I didn’t want to. So—‘You tell him or I will.’”</p><p class="p1">“Sorry, who?” Sawamura interrupts.</p><p class="p1">“My great-uncle. Dad’s uncle,” Keishin explains.</p><p class="p1">“And old is he?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, no one knows for sure.” Keishin shrugs. “He doesn’t say or do much. He just kind of…sits around. Eats a lot of fish.”</p><p class="p1">“Interesting.” Iwaizumi makes a note. “Was he at the party?”</p><p class="p1">“He was. He ate the entire salmon spread and didn’t say anything.” Keishin chuckles.</p><p class="p1">“And remind us, who other than the family was there?”</p><p class="p1">“Bokuto Koutarou, the housekeeper. And Hinata Shouyou, Dad’s nurse. But he feels like part of the family by now.”</p><p class="p1">“Can you please walk us through the events of the party? In as much detail as you can remember.”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 9, 2019<br/></em></b><b><em>9:12 P.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">The conversation from earlier still haunts him, but Keishin puts on a smile as his dad blows out the candles on his birthday cake. Ittetsu’s been throwing him strange looks all night, like he already knows, but he hasn’t said anything. Did Ukai already tell him? No, no, his father wouldn’t do that, surely not.</p><p class="p1">The caterers take the cake away to be cut; in the meantime, the family retires to the parlor to chat. Oikawa turns on some dreamy music without words that Keishin hates, but before he can ask him to shut it off, Semi Eita beats him to the punch.</p><p class="p1">“Turn your poppy shit off, Tooru,” he mutters. “We’re trying to have a nice party here.”</p><p class="p1">“But it sounds so nice! And I feel so nice! So <em>free</em>.” Oikawa sways to the music, waving his arms around like one of those inflatable balloon people things outside of used car lots. He leans into Keishin, tugging on his hand. “Dance with me, Keishin!”</p><p class="p1">“No, go away.” Keishin slumps into the corner of the sofa and shoots a desperate look across the room at Sugawara, who’s pretty much the only sane one in this family. Sugawara just shrugs and gets up.</p><p class="p1">“I’ll dance with you, Oikawa.”</p><p class="p1">“Yay!” Oikawa cheers, taking Sugawara by both hands and dragging him into his weird dance.</p><p class="p1">Shigeru sighs. “Dear god. Where’s the cake?”</p><p class="p1">“Where’s the cake? Where’s the <em>booze</em>? You people are nuts if you expect me to make it through this thing sober?” Terushima demands on his way out of the room.</p><p class="p1">“And good riddance,” Shigeru says. “At least both of my annoying-ass cousins are gone now.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, where <em>is</em> your boy, Semi?” Ittetsu asks.</p><p class="p1">“Earlier he said he was going to the bathroom,” Sugawara says.</p><p class="p1">“He’s been in there for over an hour. Is he okay?”</p><p class="p1">“I bet he’s masturbating,” Shigeru mumbles.</p><p class="p1">“Shigeru! Rude!” Oikawa hisses.</p><p class="p1">Shigeru just shrugs. “What? It’s a valid guess. I saw him on a dating app ‘cause he’s, like, super desperate.”</p><p class="p1">“Ah…” Sugawara shoots a panicked look at Semi, though Keishin can’t tell if he’s more worried about his son or about the complicated twirling move Oikawa is attempting to make him do. “Perhaps we should talk to him.”</p><p class="p1">“Where’s Dad?” Keishin says loudly.</p><p class="p1">Suddenly, a burst of loud voices leaks through the wall from Ukai’s first-floor office. Ukai’s first, unintelligible, and then Terushima’s, loud and clear.</p><p class="p1">“I’m warning you!”</p><p class="p1">Then there are two slamming sounds in quick succession; Keishin knows from the heavy thud that the second is the front door.</p><p class="p1">Ukai steps into the parlor with a slice of cake on a plate. “Time for dessert!”</p><p class="p2">~</p><p class="p3"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:09 A.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p3">Keishin finishes his recap with a shrug. “And that’s basically it.”</p><p class="p3">“So Shigeru and Terushima both left early, around the same time?” Sawamura clarifies. “And what time was that?”</p><p class="p3">“Around nine,” Keishin says.</p><p class="p3">“This argument you overheard,” Iwaizumi says. “You didn’t hear anything else?”</p><p class="p3">Keishin narrows his eyes. “No. I would have told you otherwise. You’re really trying to pin this on one of us, huh?”</p><p class="p3">“We only want a complete picture of the events of that night,” Sawamura says. “Thank you, that’s all the questions we have for you right now. Can you send your husband in, please?”</p><p class="p3">Keishin nods and leaves the room.</p><p class="p2">~</p><p class="p3"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:10 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p3">In the corner, Kuroo Tetsurou slouches in the window seat, eyeing Keishin’s back as he leaves.</p><p class="p3"><em>Liar</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:11 A.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">Hinata lets out a breath as Keishin emerges from the living room. He wants to know what they asked him, how fiercely they’d questioned him, but Shigeru beats him to it. “What did they ask you?” Shigeru demands.</p><p class="p1">Keishin shrugs. “Nothing complicated.”</p><p class="p1">“That didn’t take long,” Sugawara notes.</p><p class="p1">“Nah, they just wanted details like when people left the party and stuff like that.” Keishin stops next to his husband and puts a hand on his shoulder. “They want you next.”</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu nods resolutely and pushes his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. Hinata watches him disappear too, and even though he knows Ittetsu will return in just a few minutes, he can’t help but think of the heavy mahogany doors as jaws that will swallow him up the moment he enters.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:12 A.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi sits back in his chair and begins the recording. “Please state your name and relation to Ukai Ikkei.”</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu’s back is ramrod-straight. “My name is Ukai Ittetsu, formerly Takeda Ittetsu. I am Ukai Keishin’s husband.”</p><p class="p1">“And your profession?”</p><p class="p1">“I teach English literature and Japanese at the local public high school.”</p><p class="p1">Sawamura nods. “So, as someone from outside the family…how would you describe the family dynamics?”</p><p class="p1">“Just like any other family, I suppose. Every family fights and makes up and loves each other.”</p><p class="p1">“Do they?” Sawamura muses.</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu falters at the question, unsure if he’s supposed to answer that. He chooses not to. “Keishin especially was very close to his father. The closest of all Ukai’s sons, I’d say. Keishin really adored and looked up to him, you know.”</p><p class="p1">“I see,” Iwaizumi says. “And then there was Semi Eita, who I understand is in charge of Ukai Ikkei’s publishing company.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes. Flightless Crow Press.”</p><p class="p1">“And from what he’s said to others, he dealt a lot with adaptations and licensing agreements?”</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu feels his eyes narrow suddenly. Is this a trap? Is he being baited into saying something accusatory? “Detective, if you want me to speak badly about my family, I will not do it.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m not asking you to,” Sawamura assures him. “I’m only curious.”</p><p class="p1">“If you’d done your research, you’d know there are no adaptations of any of Dad’s books,” Ittetsu says, glasses flashing as he glares.</p><p class="p1">“Then please tell us more about Semi’s role in the company.”</p><p class="p1">“Well.” Ittetsu shifts in his chair. “I mean, truthfully, he has it easy. Dad just handed Eita a book three times a year, and Eita published it just like that. It was simple. Easy money, for both of them. But not enough, I guess.”</p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi hums. “Can you elaborate on that?”</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu sighs. “Eita was always pushing Dad to allow adaptations of his books and break into the ebook market. Dad always said no. Said he didn’t want his books twisted and tainted by an adaptation, and just didn’t trust ebooks. I’m not entirely sure why. Sometimes they’d…get into it a little.”</p><p class="p1">“Did they happen to get into it at the party?”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 9, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>8:42 P.M.</em> </b> <b></b></p><p class="p1">Ittetsu’s on his way into the kitchen to find Keishin when he notices Ukai tug Semi into a hallway. Now, Ittetsu usually isn’t a snoop, but…well, he can’t explain it, but he feels like this is no ordinary father-son conversation. So he sneaks closer and listens.</p><p class="p1">“…segment of the market,” Semi is saying. “You could reach so many readers that way, Dad, just think about it.”</p><p class="p1">“My stance has not changed,” Ukai insists. “I refuse.”</p><p class="p1">“But Dad, our books—”</p><p class="p1">“They’re not <em>our</em> books, Eita, they’re mine. And you would do well to remember that.” Ukai huffs. “I’m sorry, son. I’ve done you a grave disservice by giving you Flightless Crow Press.”</p><p class="p1">“What are you talking about?” Semi sounds bewildered. Ittetsu is, too.</p><p class="p1">“I never allowed you to build your own future, and I’m sorry for that. But no need to worry any longer. As of right now, you are no longer in charge of my publishing company.”</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu scrambles down a side hallway and holds his breath, waiting for them to pass.</p><p class="p1">Ukai just fired Semi.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:15 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">“I don’t think they talked about it at all at the party. Everything was pretty normal. Well, as normal as you can get when you have so many personalities all in one house,” Ittetsu says with a laugh, as there’s a dull slamming sound coming from somewhere near the foyer.</p><p class="p1">Sawamura sits up a little straighter.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:16 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">Keishin closes the door to Ukai’s first-floor office with barely a sound. He has to find this quickly, before Ittetsu finishes his interview. Now, where did his father put that letter?</p><p class="p1">His eyes land on the desk drawer. Is it that simple? Would his father hide it in such an obvious place?</p><p class="p1">It’s worth a try.</p><p class="p1">The drawer is locked when Keishin pulls on it, so he grabs a letter opener from the desk and pries the drawer open.</p><p class="p1">There it is.</p><p class="p1">He picks up the envelope, tearing it open messily and ripping through Ittetsu’s name as he does so. There’s a single sheet of paper, folded in thirds, and when Keishin opens it—</p><p class="p1">Nothing.</p><p class="p1">It’s blank.</p><p class="p1">It’s <em>fucking</em> <em>blank</em>.</p><p class="p1">Keishin lets out a grunt and slams the drawer shut.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:17 A.M. </em> </b></p><p class="p1">Ittetsu shrugs. “Probably nothing. The whole family’s here, after all, so there’s bound to be more noise than usual in the house.”</p><p class="p1">“Speaking of that. I understand the entire family slept over at the house that night and left early in the morning,” Sawamura says.</p><p class="p1">“That’s correct.”</p><p class="p1">“And we have you on record saying that you are a light sleeper, so every time someone came up or down the main staircase that night, you woke up.” Iwaizumi continues. “That’s what you told the detective last week.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s correct.”</p><p class="p1">“Can you remind us how many times you woke up?”</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu huffs. “You could just look at the transcripts from my last interview. You must have those.”</p><p class="p1">“If you don’t mind, we like to keep everything in one place,” Sawamura says.</p><p class="p1">“Fine.” Ittetsu sits back in his chair and tilts his head to the left. “The first time, I woke up around eleven-thirty. Tooru went upstairs to check on Dad and Shouyou because he said he heard some noise coming from the study, but they said they were just playing Go. The second time, it was Hinata coming downstairs to leave, around midnight. Then the last time, sometime after midnight, Eita told me it was Dad coming downstairs to get a snack.”</p><p class="p1">Both detectives are scribbling furiously. “Thank you,” Iwaizumi says.</p><p class="p1">“Is that all, now?”</p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi exchanges a look with Sawamura before nodding. “That’s all. We’d like to see Sugawara Koushi next.”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:21 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">Kuroo blinks slowly and stretches his legs out in front of him, movements languid like a cat. This one’s left the room without noticing him, too. How interesting.</p><p class="p1">But what’s more interesting is the immediate guard Ittetsu had thrown up at the mere <em>mention</em> of Flightless Crow Press.</p><p class="p1">He’s hiding something. Or Eita is. Or they both are.</p><p class="p1">Then again, who in this family isn’t?</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:21 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">Outside, Sugawara Koushi watches as Ittetsu comes out of the living room just as Keishin reappears from…wherever he’d snuck off to. His eyes narrow. Perhaps the police were right to question everyone again. They’re antsy, himself included. Oh, well, he can’t complain about losing the day. The memorial in town is tonight anyway, with a small gathering for the family at the house later, so they would’ve had to come anyway.</p><p class="p1">Ittetsu smiles at him. “You’re next.”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara raises a brow. “Me, really?” He’d have expected them to call in Oikawa, as the spouse of the second son.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know why. They just wanted you.”</p><p class="p1">“Of course.” Sugawara adjusts the light blue scarf around his neck and walks inside.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:21 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">Kuroo shrugs his coat off as he stands up and stretches his arms over his head.</p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi sighs as he looks over at the private investigator. “I don’t know what new information we’re going to get. If anything, this is going to be less productive than the first questioning, because now they’re suspicious and closed-off.”</p><p class="p1">Kuroo hums. “For you, maybe. This is <em>my</em> first time questioning them.”</p><p class="p1">“You haven’t said anything.”</p><p class="p1">“Not yet, I haven’t.” Kuroo grins suddenly, a flash of canines that’s eerily reminiscent of the array of knives in the center of the room. “I’m waiting for someone.”</p><p class="p1">The door opens and in walks Sugawara Koushi. He pauses for a moment, gaze scanning over both policemen before landing right on Kuroo.</p><p class="p1">“So who’s Mr. Bedhead back there?”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:22 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">No one else mentioned this mysterious third presence in the room. Hell, Sugawara isn’t sure when he’d even entered the house. He certainly hadn’t introduced himself with the police. And yet something about him looks familiar. Sugawara’s almost <em>certain </em>he’s seen that face and hair before. He sits down, squinting at the man all the while; it’s when the man lifts a hand to scratch at the back of his neck that it clicks.</p><p class="p1">“You’re Kuroo Tetsurou,” Sugawara declares, crossing his legs so one foot rests on his knee. “The private investigator. I read an article about you in <em>The New Yorker</em>.”</p><p class="p1">Kuroo grins at him like the cat that got the cream. “Good to know someone in this family reads.”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara snorts. “Are you the reason this investigation was reopened?”</p><p class="p1">“I like this one. He’s got questions.” Kuroo strolls around to sit in an armchair next to Sawamura. Sugawara notes how fluidly his movements are, all controlled grace. “Mind if we ask a few of our own?”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara smiles right back. “Why can’t we both ask questions?”</p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi looks like he’s about to say something, but Kuroo waves a hand, and he closes his mouth. “You’ve got a deal. How about you start off by stating your name and relation to Ukai Ikkei for the record?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, of course.” Sugawara sits up a bit straighter. “Sugawara Koushi. I’ve been married to Semi Eita, Ukai Ikkei’s youngest son, for fifteen years.”</p><p class="p1">“You obviously kept your family name. Why is that?”</p><p class="p1">“Why not? I like it. I wasn’t sure how I liked the sound of Semi Koushi. Plus, my students already knew me as Sugawara.”</p><p class="p1">“Your students?” Sawamura asks.</p><p class="p1">“I’m a teacher.”</p><p class="p1">“Like Ittetsu.”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara shrugs. “Yeah, sure. I taught kindergarten. Eita was always telling me to come work for Flightless Crow Press. Said I’d make more money there. But I never wanted to work for the publishing company.”</p><p class="p1">“You said you taught, past tense,” Iwaizumi notes.</p><p class="p1">“They moved me to teaching first grade. It’s not that deep.” Sugawara shrugs again. “Not everything is.”</p><p class="p1">Kuroo hums. “Do you consider yourself close to the family?”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara tilts his head. “You’re asking if I’m close with my in-laws. Is anyone?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re not just anyone, and these are just any in-laws.”</p><p class="p1">“You got me there. But what can I say? They’re my family.” When he smiles again, his lips are tight. “Do I get to ask my questions yet?”</p><p class="p1">“Soon, soon,” Kuroo assures him. “We’d like to know more about the night of the party. From your perspective.”</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 9, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>8:39 P.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">“<em>Eita</em>,” Sugawara sighs, squeezing his husband’s hand. “Not again.”</p><p class="p1">“Koushi, it’s fine. I just want to chat with him, that’s all,” Eita tells him.</p><p class="p1">“It’s never <em>just a chat</em> with Dad and you know it. Do you have to do it right now? Can’t you give it a rest for one night?” Sugawara softens his voice. “It’s his birthday.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, so he’ll be in a good mood.” Eita kisses him on the cheek. “I’m gonna go find Dad. I’ll be right back. Hey, did Kenjirou come out of the bathroom yet?”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara watches him walk away and touches his cheek where he’d been kissed. He smells whiskey. Damnit, Eita always gets brave after a few drinks. There’s no use trying to stop him anymore, though. So he heads back into the kitchen.</p><p class="p1">“Has anyone seen Kenjirou?”</p><p class="p1">“I thought I saw him go to the bathroom,” Bokuto interrupts his conversation with Hinata to say. “But that was like half an hour ago.”</p><p class="p1">“Is he still in there?” Hinata asks.</p><p class="p1">Sugawara sighs. Should he be worried? He has noticed his son’s been on his phone a lot, texting…someone. Eita jokes that he’s hard at work penning a novel, to keep Ukai’s legacy alive. Sugawara isn’t too sure. No one smiles that much while writing. A secret boyfriend? Maybe. He grabs a small place and heads over to the table, only to find someone’s eaten the entire salmon spread.</p><p class="p1">This is not his night.</p><p class="p3">~</p><p class="p1"><b> <em>November 18, 2019<br/></em> </b> <b> <em>9:25 A.M.</em> </b></p><p class="p1">“You spent most of the party looking for your son and trying to stop your husband?” Sawamura repeats.</p><p class="p1">“Unfortunately, yes. We did find Kenjirou, though. Turns out he really was in the bathroom that entire time, texting someone. I don’t know why, but everyone got it in their heads that he was in there masturbating.” Sugawara brushes a lock of hair out of his eyes. “You were right when you said this isn’t just any family. Never a dull moment with the Ukai clan, I’ll tell you that.”</p><p class="p1">Iwaizumi nods. “Thank you, Sugawara, you’ve been helpful. Can you please send—”</p><p class="p1">“Hold on a moment.” Sugawara focuses his gaze on Kuroo once again. “Mr. Bedhead said I get to ask questions. If you’re out of questions for me, then it’s my turn, wouldn’t you say?” He smiles sweetly, grin widening when Kuroo smiles back.</p><p class="p1">“Fair’s fair.” Kuroo leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Fire away.”</p><p class="p1">“Quickly, please,” Iwaizumi interjects. “We still need to talk to the rest of the family.”</p><p class="p1">“I only have one, but it’s up to Kuroo how quickly this goes,” Sugawara says. “It’s the one you didn’t answer at the beginning. Are you the reason this investigation was reopened?”</p><p class="p1">Kuroo’s grin is like a panther who’s just cornered a wild deer. “I’m honored you think so highly of me. Send in your husband, would you?”</p><p class="p1">Sugawara stiffens. “You still haven’t answered.”</p><p class="p1">“All I said was that you could ask a question. I never said I’d answer it.” Kuroo has the audacity to wink at him. “Thank you for your time today, Sugawara.”</p><p class="p1">~</p><p class="p1">
  <b>
    <em>November 18, 2019</em>
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</p><p class="p1">
  <b>
    <em>9:27 A.M.</em>
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</p><p class="p1">That one, Kuroo Tetsurou thinks, is too smart for this family.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>more exposition but this is all Important, i promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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